


Epiphany of Judas

by IkiaSetto



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blame the show, Gen, He won't here, It's not gay, Maybe - Freeform, This might look gay, Why did Arthur die man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 00:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12545112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IkiaSetto/pseuds/IkiaSetto
Summary: [Slightly AU] An unexpected reunion between Merlin and Gilli creates both hope and chaos for Merlin. Gilli has since learned of Emrys' destiny and the traitor-to-be that walks amid Camelot. What happens when Mordred accidentally overhears Merlin and Gilli's conversation of this 'unheard' prophecy in an errand to Gaius' chambers? Can it change Arthur's future or will it aggravate it?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be like Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy--it looks in order at first and then confusing as hell.
> 
> Keep up, backwater people.

Dialogue Instructions:

"-Speaking-".

_"-Thoughts-"._

**Please enjoy and let your imagination soar!**

0oOo0

**Prologue**

0oOo0

Footsteps echoed against the polished surface, the rattling of chainmail against a sword's scabbard resonated against the walls of the vacant hallways. An ebony leather glove pushed back the scarlet cloak that danced along with its wearer, beckoning it to make space in order for its owner to take strides freely.

Piercing sapphire orbs kept their gaze ahead towards their destination. After several nights of accompanying Gwaine to tavern outings, it seemed the seemingly undefeatable male had finally succumbed to severe after-effects of too many alcoholic consumptions.

Mordred, unfortunately, and yet amusingly, had been the one to be appointed to undertake daily errands to Gaius' chambers in order to fetch a remedy for the headaches that befell his fellow comrade. He was not at all troubled to partake in the assistance of his comrade's needs.

However, he had taken notice of a constant predicament and yet enjoyment to the daily appointments to the physicians' quarters. The first time he arrived at the appointed hour to fetch the remedy, it was not Gaius that had greeted him—it had been Emrys. Their exchange had been brief and rather monotone in his opinion, though he had cherished every second he had been granted.

At first, he had merely dismissed it as a coincidence and as a gift that had been presented to him for just one day. He had been wrong, of course. The next day when he arrived at the same appointed time, Emrys had greeted him yet again. Mordred had not been able to hold back the unbearable question and had vocalized it.

" _Emrys."_

_The slight tilt of the head from the older male was the only indication that he had heard him. Merlin faced away from him as he continued his quest of rummaging through the prescription cabinet, looking for the prescribed remedy to Gwaine if Mordred could guess._

" _Is this the usual time of day in which you take over for Gaius?"_

_Merlin grasped a small cork top bottle from the higher section in the cabinet. The warlock twisted the bottle in his fingers and read the description written in it. His gaze shifted to the openly curious Knight, feeling rather wary of the seemingly innocent question. He dismissed his turmoil of emotions and simply stepped towards Mordred._

" _I'm usually collecting herbs at this time for Gaius. He's busy, it's all." Merlin handed the remedy to Mordred, their fingers brushing for a split moment. In truth, any contact with the other male was dangerous to him—he simply could not relax around him. He could only picture the worst in every action he so made._

_It had not gone unnoticed to Mordred of the discreet flinch the physical contact had caused on Emrys. He simply could not understand what had caused such distrust that a simple accidental touch could make the older man so wary. In comparison to others, Emrys seemed to twitch at any kind of touch from him—be it accidental or in a friendly manner (not that he'd ever tried). It made him terribly wary of his own actions and how to try and appease him._

" _Thank you, Emrys."_

_A slight nod from said man and their conversation was finalized for the day. It made him feel inferior and unwelcomed, though he never was one to complain of certain conflicts in situations. He would definitely not begin now._

Thus, here he was, making his way to the Physicians' quarters once more. He did not doubt Emrys would greet him yet again, although that was not the sole reason he was looking forward to their interaction. King Arthur had been reunited with a fellow fighter who had fought in the Decennial Tournament years ago. That on its own had not been his point of interest.

Mordred had seen the man reunite with Emrys in such a way that one might mistake them for—brothers. In his eyes, he had seen nothing more than an affection that had been seen in kin. The type in which is found in his people. Perhaps, if he were to meet on friendly terms and not duty and converse with the man, Gilli, he could prove his suspicions right.

0oOo0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	2. Act I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magical Spells Translated:
> 
> "Eorðe lîca dôð hafocfugel" means "Land like the hawk."

0oOo0

"Ten years."

Muttered a young man; his booted feet situated on a thick branch as he held onto the tree trunk in order to support himself from the terrifying height he currently stood from. He leaned forward, his right hand clutching at the trunk while his left rested on his forehead to block the rays of sunshine emitting from above.

A small grin spread across his lips as he gazed over the breathtaking Kingdom of Camelot. A strong gush of wind caressed him as he took in the image of the unchanging kingdom. It had been ten years since he last came to participate in the Decennial Tournament—and ten years since he had last seen the young warlock that he had kept in his mind throughout his self-discovering journey.

Gilli inhaled the fresh air, his shoulder-length hair dancing along with the flow as his small braid brushed against the right side of his face. He gazed downwards to the untaken path and easily leaped from the one hundred foot tree.

" _ **Eorðe lîca dôð hafocfugel**_ _."_ Gilli commanded in a soft whisper. His orbs turned into amber, his ring emitting a burning illumination from his right middle finger.

Instead of falling rapidly to his death, his fall slowly descended into a slow motion, like a hawk landing its talons on the ground as it spreads its wings for maneuver. His boots crunched at the rocky soil, an audible  _splat!_ was heard when he took his first few steps.

The young man gazed down at the mess of his boots. Gilli gave an audible sigh, choosing to not dwell on the fact that he may need to watch his step lest he wished to smell of horse manure. He brushed back his ebony cloak as he pulled his foot out of the mud in an unceremonious way. His right hand rested on the hilt of his sword, appreciating the weight of reassurance from it.

0oOo0

There were various occasions when he had to dodge flocks of townspeople that hasten down the path from the gates of Camelot. Even horses were galloping around the kingdom, though not for the reason Gilli had thought. He witnessed several times when knights would help the peasants and farmers. The Knights went as far as to carry half their sacks or fetch horses in order for the people to have support on carrying their heavy carts.

He could not help to stare in disbelief at their actions, due to how he had rarely seen such compassion during Uther's ruling. A shadow fell over Gilli's facial features at the thought of the previous king, one who had caused so much pain and suffering. A small smile formed on his lips as he ripped his thoughts away from such negativity. There was a far more just King now, one who had been predicted way ahead of his time.

" _It's...lonely._

_To—be more powerful than any man you know and have to live like a shadow."_

Gilli's azure orbs zoomed into the path that would lead to the Physician's quarters. Merlin's words chanted once more in his thoughts, the memory of that fateful night is recalled as if it had just been yesterday. He felt as though he was that immature boy that had stepped for the first time into Camelot's gates, though he was glad he was not that person anymore.

The brand new shield on his back felt lighter, in comparison to the great weight he had felt in his past scrawny little body. Gilli took on the same appearance of Sir Percival in body and fashion, though in comparison to his mighty height, he had merely grown an inch taller than Merlin—at least, he hopes he has.

He pulled his cloaks hoody, obscuring his face as he headed towards the dueling pitch, wishing to see the arena where he had fought in. As he walked to the area, he noticed a few Camelot knights heading towards an opposite area with shields and swords. He caught a few words of challenging the King in his daily training—one that so happened to be occurring at the moment. Undoubtedly, their reunion will surely be a surprise to the King.

In a swift silent movement, he followed after the knights to the training grounds. His gaze followed their scarlet cloaks and fell five feet away from them in order to not grab their attention. Gilli halted on the visitor's side, of the training ground, overlooking at the training that was currently taking place. The sight of King Arthur made him nostalgic and rather amused to see the man that he had once thought of as an evil spawn of Uther.

His gaze followed the clashing swords, noting the agility and quickness of the current Knight combating with King Arthur. The shields clashed against one another, the ground rumbling beneath their feet at the friction their armor caused with so much equal strength. As the sword swooped down on the King, Gilli knew the battle was over. As he had predicted, the knight had left himself opened and thus had given the chance for the King to overthrow his sword.

A young man stood from his situated posture on a bench, making Gilli inhale sharply upon noticing just who it was. Like the legends of the Druids, he was indeed undetected despite the ferocity and enormous power he possesses.

" _ **Emrys."**_

Merlin froze standing halfway from his bench as he felt a caress in his mind, evoking his true name like a delicate artifact. He gazed sharply in every direction, his azure hues expressing fright and confusion to find who had called for him. For a second, his gaze locked with Mordred—who was staring at him with a mirrored expression of his own. Merlin frowned, suspecting that he had heard the calling from the telepathic connection between them. He looked behind him, scanning the crowd of townspeople that had gathered to watch their king train.

His gaze halted on a cloaked figure, his features obscured from him though somehow he felt his gaze was on him.  _ **"Who are you?"**_ Merlin called back, his body turning to face the mysterious figure completely. The figure pushed his arm out from beneath his cloak and reached to his hood. He pulled the hoodie down, his gaze locking with Merlin's as a serene smile spread over his lips.

" _ **Hello, Merlin—or should I call you, Emrys?"**_

0oOo0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Act II

0oOo0

In a heartbeat, the world between them fell into a hush silence despite the commotion that continued without them. Their gaze continuously locked with one another, expressing recognition while the other remained perplexed. It was as if the moon had invaded the daylight, and thus created a paradox that one of them did not understand how to behave towards.

" _Mer_ lin!"

The young warlock ignored his King's shout, his face tilting just slightly towards him although his gaze continued to try and figure out who was standing a few feet away—that is, until it dawn on him like a nonexistent blow to his gut. His lips parted as he swallowed a lump in his throat. He could not believe his eyes; he had thought their paths would never cross again after a decade had come to pass.

"Gilli?" Merlin questioned tentatively, loud enough for King Arthur to turn his attention to his obviously distracted manservant. Arthur stepped away from his new opponent, raising his hand as a command to withhold their training. Mordred had also turned his attention to Emrys, due to being curious about who this new sorcerer may be.

Gilli flashed a smile, the recognition from the young warlock being enough of an entrance pass. He stepped over the fresh grass, heading straight towards the direction of the training ground. A slow grin spread over Merlin's features, his steps immediately heading towards Gilli. "But—how? It's been— _ten years_!" A small laugh escaped him, followed by Gilli's own quiet chuckle.

"Years are nothing to you. Surely you didn't think I wouldn't come around again?" Gilli joked, slowing his pace as Merlin came before him. They exchanged a smile that broke into a small laugh.

Gilli and Merlin embraced each other, that even when they parted away, Gilli kept a firm hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Throughout these ten years, I've learned much." He gently squeezed Merlin's shoulder. "Not only of myself but of you as well." A knowing look flashed over his features, making Merlin understand why he had known his true name.

"How is it that you can use—?" Merlin's gaze discreetly turned towards the direction of the training ground.

"Telepathy?" Gilli finished his words. Merlin nodded, the uneasy feeling remained in the new connections he surely is making unconsciously.

"Well…I found out—"

"Gilli!?" Merlin turned around, Gilli following his action as he gazed towards the source of the voice. King Arthur stared, and just as Merlin, he immediately laughed. "Look at you! All grown up!" He stepped forward, placing a hand on Gilli's shoulder. "Its good to see you again, fellow dueler."

"Sire." Gilli bowed his head slightly, a smile grazing him. "You have finally become King." It was an innocent comment, though Merlin knew what the hidden meaning was. For many years it has been destined for this to occur, especially those that continued to believe magic would reign once more. It brought a sense of accomplishment that the first few prophecies are finally being fulfilled.

"Indeed I am. I welcome you to Camelot once more, Gilli. Though I'm afraid the Decennial Tournament took place months ago."

"That's alright. I did not come to challenge you or others. I merely came to visit an old friend whom I owe a great debt." Gilli's gaze turned towards Merlin. "Perhaps I may need to do more than to merely visit him. I come to aid this friend."

"Are they in trouble?" Arthur asked, genuinely concerned for the well-being of who this mysterious friend may be. "Know that any friend of Camelot will receive the aid they may need."

Gilli stared at the King, for the first time seeing just how much he has matured and become a wise man.  _"This may be because of your doing."_ He whispered at the mind of Merlin's, knowing how much of an important role he's playing. He bowed once more. "I appreciate your concern and generosity, Sire, though fear not. It is merely emotional aid in his troubled times."

"I see. It's good that you're supporting him, I wish the best to befall him in the current troubled times he's facing." Arthur's smile spread, pointedly examining the weapons he held. "A shield and a sword, just like the first time when you arrived. If you're not here to fight, won't you at least join us for training?"

"I'd gladly do so, though I'm afraid I must decline—for now. I must speak with my friend and explain a situation that is important to both of us." Gilli straightened his shield on his back, securing it around himself.

"Surely you can at least meet my men? They are all fine Knights that may wish to brawl with you when you take on my offer. Most notably Sir Mordred—…"

Gilli narrowed his eyes for a split moment at the mention of the name, though immediately placed a serene expression. Merlin did not miss the change in demeanor at the mention of Mordred. Due to Gilli announcing his true name, he would not be surprised if he were to know of Mordred—though he questioned how he could have found such knowledge.

"They are all standing there. Come, you must greet them." King Arthur finished, turning away as he paced towards the training ground. Gilli shared a look with Merlin as he followed after the King, seemingly feigning innocence to those that were not aware of the threat amid them.

0oOo0

"…And this is Sir Mordred." King Arthur announced his name in a proud tone. Merlin sat away on the bench he had previously been in, the wary feeling continuing to plague his thoughts.

Mordred stepped forward, inclining his head politely. "It is an honor. From what King Arthur told us, it is admiring that you once fought the previous King." A thin smile grazed him, his gaze hiding the intense curiosity he had towards this man. Gilli was no normal human, Merlin had been obvious to show who had called for him telepathically. The greeting between them and their hushed conversation had been further proof of it.

"King Arthur speaks highly of you," Gilli spoke softly, his orbs staring intensely into the others. "I was merely spared when I fought with King Uther. Perhaps, during our training, we may be able to test our strength—it will be an honor to spar with you."

The druid did not miss the tone that he was spoken in. In many ways, it reminded him of Emrys, though he was still spoken with more kindness than the destined man had ever expressed to him. "I look forward to it." Mordred nodded, stepping away to join the busy Knights. His sapphire orbs drifted towards Emrys, whose gaze was already fixed on him. Mordred looked away, though the intense feeling of being watched remained on his back.

"Don't take too long to come around." King Arthur spoke, directing his words at the retreating young man. He grasped a brand new weapon from the weapon rack, twirling it in his hands as he faced his previous opponent. "Commence!"

Merlin followed alongside Gilli through the training ground, halting as they approached the division between the townspeople and the king's training. "I have to stay with Arthur," Merlin spoke, smiling slightly. "He can survive an hour without me at most." That earned a chuckle from Gilli.

"I figured you'd say as much. I will be with Gaius in the meantime, I have yet to reveal myself to him and earn his trust." He noticed the amused look from Merlin, causing him to feel puzzled. "What is it?"

"He knows," Merlin declared. "About the ring and your powers. You don't have to explain it to him. He'll more likely want to know what your business is with me."

"Like I told Arthur." He dropped the title, staring at the young warlock. "I know what's happening. And I'm sure you noticed that I'm aware of who Mordred is." Merlin dropped his gaze for a moment, a frown replacing his smile. "We'll talk later." He changed the subject, knowing how much frustration the other must feel.

"Let's talk in Gaius' chambers. I don't trust other places without—you know, feeling wary." Gilli nodded at Merlin, though made no indication to walk away. After a moment, Gilli looked at the townspeople, feeling glad they were not within earshot.

"Until then, Emrys."

Merlin stilled, immediately looking towards the townspeople. He noticed they were far too distracted to have heard. In exasperation, he turned back to forbid his name to be told so freely—only to realize Gilli was gone. Perhaps telepathy wasn't all he had learned to control over the past decade.

0oOo0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Act III

0oOo0

_**Clang, clang, clang!** _

Merlin's shoulders flinched as three pieces of armor clanged loudly against the stone-like platform upon dropping them. He slowly turned to look at his Sire, who was already looking at him with such disappointment at his clumsiness.

"You are  _such_ an idiot sometimes, Merlin." Arthur commented in exasperation as he unclasped his remaining armor. The Knights soon joined in with hearty laughter, each of them busying themselves as they placed their weapons on their rightful arsenal.

"Give him a break, Sire. It can't be easy to carry all this load of armor and have to polish it." Gwaine commented gleefully. He ruffled his hair, aiming to get rid of the dust that had accumulated during their training—even  _he_ was feeling exhausted. "Besides, it's pretty late now. He can take a break, can't he?"

"He'd enjoy a night at the tavern, I'm sure." Arthur scoffed. He slipped his leather gloves off in an irritated manner though to everyone else it looked as though the king was throwing his usual tantrums. "Wouldn't you,  _Mer_ lin? Maybe you can join Gwaine in his stomachache and actually have a reason for not coming to work."

"It's not a stomache! It's just—from fighting the local townspeople. I have a better tolerance of beer than you do, Sire."

"I'd like for you to test that!"

"A night out at the tavern it is! You'll be snoozing on horse manure before you know it."

"I really doubt that."

The young warlock rolled his eyes good-heartedly, settling himself on a wooden bench next to the armor. He grasped the boot polish, settling the boots on his lap. He began to scrub away at the leather, deciding to occupy his mind with a task rather than listen to Arthur's rants of proving himself. At the moment, he was more preoccupied of Gilli's presence in Camelot—there was no doubt Mordred would come seeking answers due to his absurd yet well-concealed curiosity.

He was interrupted from his musings when leather gloves hit his face. Merlin raised his head, staring at nothing in particular with an unimpressed expression. A snort from the King followed by chortle was his only indication that Arthur had perhaps sensed his musing—which, he quite didn't like due to how 'serious' he looked to Arthur. There was just no particular way of pleasing the man, truly.

Arthur chattered off with his Knights as Merlin occupied himself once more. That is until a second interruption occurred—It seemed Gilli had brushed his mind for a moment though no words had been exchanged. He stopped for a moment, wondering if it had been done unconsciously. It was rather frustrating how sensitive he is to telepathic connections, even the first time he had heard Mordred it had felt like a dull knock at his consciousness.

"Are you alright?"

Merlin's eyes snapped open, realizing that he had tuned off. He looked towards Mordred who stood by the bench. He stared in silence for a moment before shaking his head. "Nothing's wrong." He answered simply, turning his gaze away as he began to scrub the leather boot. It was unnerving to speak to the druid, he often found himself having to hold back in responding to him or even making simple comments that he easily did with the other Knights.

Mordred remained standing where he was, his gaze piercing into Merlin's situated form. He looked towards the Knights, noting their distraction from the warlock. After a moment of hesitation, he situated himself next to the man. He noticed the other focused more intensely on his task rather than look towards his direction. He casually began to unclasp his gauntlet on his arms.

" _ **Emrys. I am merely wishing to help."**_

After finishing with one of the leather boots, he placed it neatly on the floor and grasped the remaining one. Merlin tensed slightly at the intrusion in his mind, though he had been aware his questions would arrive. He did not need to answer him, though he knew the further he constricted answers, the more suspicious Mordred would become. He did not want to converse with him, he was finding it harder to remain distant.

" _ **There's really nothing wrong. You know what Gilli is."**_ Merlin gave him a sideways glance and turned back to his brushing.  _ **"**_ **HE** _ **isn't a threat."**_ The warlock emphasized the word, particularly aware how accusing he sounded. He placed the finished leather boot next to the other. He grabbed both pairs and stood from the bench and made his way to a storage space. After accommodating the pair in the higher section, he stepped beside Mordred's seated form to take the remaining armor in his arms.

"When have I ever been a threat to you?" Mordred whispered, staring at the warlock besides him. His gaze intently stared at the other, seeking answers that Emrys would simply not give him. It was rather stressful to be so judged yet not know the reason for it. "Have I done you any wrong now _?"_ He understood he had said and done things when he was a child, though those times were to be forgotten—just as he did not blame Emrys' actions in the past.

"No." Merlin answered, hunched over the armor as he contemplated Mordred's words. However, the Dragon's advice once more rang in his head and he simply could not endanger more lives by his actions. He looked at Mordred, a frown decorating his face. "The future is unclear, Mordred. But I've seen things." He vaguely answered, not particularly giving a straight answer, but not a puzzling one either.

The warlock straightened his back, adjusting the weight of the armor on his arms as he made his way out of the chamber. Their conversation was over—for now. He knew it would come again; it seemed to be a constant obstacle between himself and Mordred that the druid simply would not drop. His visit tomorrow to fetch Gwaine's remedy may just be a tad bit more complicated than usual, he could sense it.

Although, with Gilli in this particular mess, it may just become much more complicated than he would have thought. After he bid his farewell to finish his mandatory tasks, he glanced back for a moment. As he had thought, Mordred was staring at him—though he was radiating quite the stressful aura. He understood his frustration, though that did not mean he would yield to it and comfort him. If anyone needed comfort it was the cruelty of destiny that always had to do what would come to pass.

0oOo0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Act IV

0oOo0

"You are  _late_ , my boy."

The wooden door had been opened for Merlin, who currently stood in front of it with an exhausted look. Gaius' tone held astonishment and concern for his unofficially adopted son. He understood the lad was young and could withhold against various laborious tasks, though the time in which he would come home was exhausting even for his old bones to ignore.

"Sorry, Gaius." Merlin walked inside, understanding his guardian's concern. "You know Arthur, the chores just multiplied as soon as he became king." The young warlock spoke in a groggy tone, his legs threatening to collapse beneath him at any second. If he had known the night out at the tavern would include a punishment to the losing team—which just happened to be Gwaine and himself—he wouldn't have agreed to it.

He closed the door, turning to stare at the young man for a moment. "What happened?" The old man raised an eyebrow, noting an odd odor in the air that reeked heavily of alcohol. His expression shifted into a scolding look, one that Merlin had expected. "Were you at the  _tavern_?"

"No. Yes, in a way." Merlin quickly answered, unconsciously scratching at the back of his neck. At Gaius' impatient posture, he knew he had to explain himself and fast. "Arthur made a bet and Gwaine and I lost." That earned a double take from Gaius.

"Arthur?"

"Yes."

"The _King_?"

"Yes, Arthur. The King. King Arthur."

Gaius stared at the young man for a moment longer and shook his head solemnly. "I shouldn't have given him excuses that you were at the tavern each time he asked for you. I'm afraid he, too, has taken an example out of you." He stepped towards the pot that currently was preparing supper over the fire.

"Yes, you really shouldn't have—" Merlin fell silent, his lips opening only to close again. "Wait.  _Each_ time? Gaius, why would you—"

"You're back."

Merlin's attention turned to the familiar voice. Gilli sat by the staircase leading to books Gaius' neatly organized by the wall and up a makeshift balcony. It was surprising that the young warlock had not sensed or seen his presence when he entered the chambers, though perhaps it was due to Gilli's concealed magic within the ring.

"It's late. I was thinking you weren't going to be here when I came back." Merlin gave him a small smile, stepping towards the staircase. "You've been reading?" He questioned conversationally, his attention being drawn to the book Gilli held in his hands.

"Yes. Gaius lent me his small library. I have to say, there's a lot of knowledge at your disposal. It's fitting to the prophecies." He spoke as he held a book of potions; each written potion described rare flowers that could only be acquired in seemingly impossible lands. "No one would suspect Emrys, of all people, to reside in the heart of Camelot."

Merlin gave a small snort as he sat two steps below Gilli's situated place. "It's not like I'm some rare species. I'm just like you and everyone else." The warlock spoke, his mind seemingly elsewhere as he picked at the stone-like surface beneath them.

"Few people think that. Your amount of power could only ever fathom by those who don't possess it." Gilli responded as he gently closed the book. He stood up, placing the book back to where it respectfully belonged. He sat once more, resting his arms on his lap as he stared at the young man in front of him.

"Are you one them?" Merlin asked, his gaze falling on the sorcerer.

Gaius' gaze discreetly looked towards the trio, not as a sign of distrust but of curiosity. He would be lying if he didn't say he had doubts of what Gilli could do to assist Merlin with Mordred. However, given their conversation when Merlin wasn't about, he had the realization that this may do well for the wary warlock. Perhaps, if he could hear another sorcerer rather than a dragon of how he could change Mordred's fate, it would be Gilli.

" _The lad was once corrupted by the ring and his powers. He could have killed King Uther, though a simple conversation between them had changed such a future."_ Gaius stared at Gilli, giving himself a small nod of approval.  _"Perhaps a conversation with Gilli may do well to him."_

Merlin's only answer was a small smile from Gilli and a shake of his head. The young warlock felt he was being too humble, though perhaps it was just how much he had matured after their last meeting. "You've changed."

"Is that a good thing?" He asked, his gaze not dropping from the warlock.

"Yes. Though your hair makes me think that's where you get your strength, Samson."

"Very funny." The sarcasm between them made it easier for both to not think of the heavy task at hand—though unspoken, Merlin was aware of what specific topic he had come to discuss.

Gaius carefully pulled the pot from the fire, placing three bowls on the wooden table. He grasped a rag, gently tilting the pot to the bowls. He filled each one with generous amounts of porridge. Once the table was prepared, he turned to look at the talkative young men who simply could not stop talking about the length of hair appropriate for fighting.

"Are you boys going to negotiate about hair or will you come eat your supper already?" They both immediately stood and hastily took their seats parallel to Gaius. The old man shook his head, situating himself as they began to tuck into their food gratefully.

0oOo0

"You never did tell me how you can use telepathy now," Merlin commented as he sat on his bed, unclasping the various buckles in his leather boots. He slipped them off, neatly placing them beside his bed. He remained with his socks, knowing the night may become chillier due to fall approaching.

Gilli sat at the end of the bed, his curious gaze taking in the room of Emrys. It was very normal, nothing flashy or a single trace of magic—except the few sketches by his desk. He would never have taken Merlin to be a drawer, though there are various talents he possesses that not anyone can have in multitudes.

"It's because of my ring." Gilli took hold of his hand, gently stroking his ring. "When I first used magic, I used it for bad intentions—that's all I had in mind. I hated Uther for taking so many people like me and killing them." He fell silent for a moment, his finger gently tracing the letters decorated on the ring. "But I made one grave mistake. This ring was my father's, therefore, it had powerful magic that I couldn't wield freely."

The young warlock stared for a moment, settling himself against the wall. He pulled his legs to his chest, listening with curiosity and apprehension. It reminded him of his father and of his own ability as a Dragonlord, so much that he wondered if a ring could be this powerful and intelligent to its user's intentions. "Then what happened?" Merlin asked softly.

He looked towards Merlin, noticing the interest the warlock had towards his story. Gilli also noticed a wooden dragon sculpture on the warlock's chest, though did not inquire about it. "I encountered with the druids. Though technically  _I_ sought them." That got the attention of Merlin, his head snapped up to look at him instead of the intriguing sculpture. "They taught me how to use its power to its full potential. Eventually, I also learned about the Emrys prophecy."

"Did you hear about Mordred from them?" Merlin questioned, the pieces finally falling into place. Gilli nodded, a frown and puzzling look grazing his face. The warlock mirrored his expression, though for other reasons. "What is it?" He asked, rather concerned if the druids had perhaps told him other events he was not aware of.

"It's just—…" Gilli sighed, slightly irritated at his own puzzling thoughts. "The druids made the prophecy sound so intimidating and unchanging, even though I think they're wrong."

"Why do you think they're wrong?" Merlin asked quietly, the sculpture long forgotten as he stared at Gilli uncertainly.

"I wanted to kill Uther all those years ago, but I didn't do it because you helped me," Gilli explained as he settled himself next to the warlock, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "You reached out to me and even though I didn't understand why you had helped him at the time, after hearing the prophecy from the druids you were shed in a new light in my mind. You weren't a traitor to our kind anymore; you became what they know you as. As Emrys."

The warlock remained silent, his gaze staring intently at the other. "Couldn't Mordred be the same?" Gilli suddenly asked, his gaze turning to face Emrys. "If he knew—his prophecy, the reason you serve Arthur so much and hide away your magic—the reason for your distrust towards him. The reason for your seemingly difficult  _actions,_ wouldn't he have a change of heart like I did?"

Merlin's gaze widened slightly, quite at a loss to even respond to such words—even if they held true and perhaps even logical reasoning, how was he to even take action in them? How was he to ignore the dragon's warning or even a prophecy that could very well go wrong in any route they may take? It would complicate things; Mordred would not be able to withstand such a destiny—Merlin himself didn't even know if he was  _aware_ that he was Arthur's bane.

"…I don't know." Merlin answered solemnly, his gaze falling on the wooden dragon sculpture. He pulled his knees a little closer, wrapping his arms tightly around himself like a protective shield. "I simply don't know."

0oOo0


	6. Act V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The confusion begins now!
> 
> Be sure to keep up, great reader!

0oOo0

Arthur had once referred to Merlin as shifty, as though he had something to hide. Those very same words were coming back to haunt the young warlock, for he was acting really, and he means  _really_ shifty as of late. The clumsiness seemed to double at any mention or pointing out of his behavior.

The Knights had taken notice of this behavior the day after Gilli had arrived, which had been rather nostalgic to them. Merlin had become rather cold and solemn at times, barely pulling a smile ever since Mordred had arrived. The sudden change was obvious to them—, especially to their king.

"Alright, out with it. What's wrong with you?"

The warlock feigned ignorance as he spread the bed sheets over the mattress. "Whatever do you mean, Sire?" He questioned formally—a huge sign that he was lying, in Arthur's perspective that is. Merlin gave him a sideways glance as he quickly began to further fix the bed.

"I know you're lying." Arthur stood from his chair, placing his quill pen on the wooden table. "You've been acting weird ever since Gilli arrived and I want to know why." He spoke in a demanding tone though it was not an order, either. Merlin knew he was far too honorable to abuse his power in such a way—unless he pushed him enough, that is.

"It's nothing, I've just—been worried—about…Gwaine. Yes. I've noticed he's taking a lot of medications from Gaius, it's terrible." Even to Merlin that sounded like a sappy excuse, though he had to make due with what he had. "It's devastating news, really." He turned away, folding the extra linen sheets neatly on the bedside.

"Merlin."

"Yes, Sire?"

"Those are extra sheets."

Merlin looked from Arthur to the folded sheets, and back to his king. "And?" He questioned respectfully, not at all understanding what he means.

"You're putting them on the bed, where they're not needed. The extra goes in the cabinet."

He gazed from the folded sheets to the cabinet. "Ah." After a moment of silence, Merlin slowly took the folded sheets and put them in the cabinet. He sucked in his lip, slowly closing the cabinet door, looking suspiciously interested on the floor all of a sudden. "I forgot."

"See! Explain that!" Arthur pointed out the obvious, feeling irritated by his servant's behavior. It had been  _weeks_ now and Merlin was still acting like a child getting caught with nonexistent sweets. "The first time you began to act so foolishly was while we went hunting!"

0oOo0

DAY ONE OF MERLIN'S IDIOCY (ACCORDING TO KING ARTHUR)

" _Merlin."_

_The warlock kept his gaze fixed on the back of Mordred's. His gaze did not hold a hostile aura, but a contemplating one. Ever since last night, Gilli's words had become difficult to ignore, especially since the source of his problem was constantly before him._

" _MERlin."_

_Perhaps if he were to yield to his words, and take on his advice—would it truly make a difference? Gilli did not have the same destiny as Mordred's as it was not fixed. The future was also not fixed and it could very well change. Perhaps, if he were to question the druid boy—no, that would seem far too suspicious as well. Maybe if—_

" _MERLIN!"_

_Merlin immediately jumped, nearly knocking off the pot that currently burned over the campfire. On instinct, he reached with his hand to steady it. He immediately yelped against the burnt mark on his palm from balancing the pot, immediately retreating his hand back from it. "Yes, Sire?" He asked in a croaky tone. He cradled his hand against his chest, grimacing against the pain._

_Arthur made a frustrating sound, already knowing that his servant was being clumsy—perhaps more so than usual. "Go wash your hands, we don't want you serving the soup with roast meat." Even though he tried to sound unaffected, Merlin knew the king felt a tinge of guilt for being the reason Merlin had burnt in the first place._

" _Yes, Arthur." He stood from his situated spot, retreating to the river a few feet away. He could feel Mordred's gaze on him, though he tried not to think about the druid boy. Merlin felt frustrated that the main reason he had burnt was that of his thoughts wandering to Mordred, something that he wanted to avoid greatly._

_He kneeled over the river, hissing as his hand entered the cold stream of water. He tried not to grimace at the pain, gently soothing his hand with the liquid. He was not good with healing spells; therefore he had to make due with what he had. As he gently scrubbed at the tender skin, he felt the pain slowly subside._

" **Are you alright?"**

_The telepathic message made him tense for a moment, though he made himself relax. He stood up, shaking his hand slightly for the water to dry. This time, in comparison to last time, he did not answer back. Once he got back to their camp, he dug through his leather bag and pulled out an ointment. It burned for a moment but he spread it around his burnt area. After doing so, he wrapped a clean cloth around his palm, tightly securing it. Mordred's gaze fixed on him the entire time._

" **Why didn't you heal it?"**

_Merlin ignored his voice once more, though he could feel the curiosity from the other. For a second, a spark of understanding slipped into the connection, making him rather wary that he knew something—or at least, suspected it._

" **You're not skilled in healing spells."**

_It wasn't a question but a fact. The warlock busied himself to prepare the bowls and the pot. He carried the pot around his arm, a wooden spoon inside it. He grabbed the spoon and filled a bowl, giving it to each of the Knights—Mordred being seated farthest from the others, thus making him the last to receive a meal._

_As he approached the last Knight and stopped in front of him, he crouched down and poured the soup into his bowl. The other Knights began to chat away, greedily tucking into their food and savoring the taste that could only come to them when they were to rest._

_As he handed the bowl to the druid, Mordred suddenly took hold of his arm—discreetly enough for the other Knights to not notice. Merlin had a surge of panic for a second, though it was replaced with growing anger at the manhandling._

" **What—"** _Merlin was about to demand answers telepathically when he noticed Mordred's eyes illuminate amber. His panic rose once more as he swiftly turned his face to look at the others. Thankfully, they were all distracted but Merlin still felt this was very reckless for even the druid to attempt._ **"Don't be foolish!"** _He hissed._

_The druid ignored the other and focused on healing his hand. Once he was done, his orbs dimmed into his sapphire color and felt satisfied with his handy work. He retrieved his hand away from Merlin's arm, his gaze looking up at the warlock._

" **Your hand. You can use it again now, Emrys."**

_The warlock stared at the other, his hardened gaze staring gravely and a bit accusingly—though not enough for it to be hostile. Wordlessly, Merlin stood up and walked back to the campfire, placing the pot to hang once more. He looked back at Mordred for a moment before busying himself with other tasks._

0oOo0

"Don't worry too much about Sir Gwaine, he will be fine soon." The king sighed, rubbing at his forehead in exasperation. Even  _he_  knew that wasn't the real reason but he didn't want to push the subject—at least not anymore. Maybe later.

"Yes, Sire." Merlin grabbed the garments that needed washing, as well as Arthur's leather boots. After a moment of silence between them, Merlin shifted slightly. "Will that be all, Sire?" He asked tentatively, his eyes shifting from his king to the wooden doors—his only exit out of this one-sided interrogation.

"Yes, that will be all." Arthur dismissed in an indolent manner, waving his hand as he situated himself once more. He picked his quill pen, his azure hues scanning through his writing, often contemplating what he should further write to the rising conflict in the north—the mysterious circumstances making it difficult to determine whether it was war.

The warlock bowed his head as best as he could, quickly scurrying away while trying to maneuver the garments on his arms. He was careful where he was walking, even though he didn't truly know too well. It surprised him just how many items of clothing Arthur and Guinevere possessed—he usually had to wash at least five pieces of clothing from his end, but a week for the royals is a mountain load of it. He reached the wooden doors, only to notice he couldn't see the handle to open the door.

" _Oh, yes. Make my life harder than it already is, destiny."_ Merlin internally grumbled as he tried to clumsily find the handle without dropping the clothes from his arms. He couldn't even reach the handle or the clothing would fall. His difficult time was ended when someone opened the wooden doors. He couldn't see the path ahead due to the clothes obscuring his view. "Sorry, excuse me, I'm just—leaving now."

Merlin tried to step forward, nearly tripping on his way. He felt the mysterious person quickly balance him by his shoulders. "Thank you, sorry about that!" Merlin quickly spoke, wishing nothing more than to be swallowed by the ground. Today and the weeks before had not been his lucky days.

"Do…help with that?" Merlin didn't quite catch the person's words, his voice being drowned out by the clothing between them. By the pitch of their voice, he was glad it wasn't the queen or he would be having a fit with Arthur. "Could you just help me balance half of it? I have a sack tied around my waist, I just need to get it untied." Merlin asked. He had given up on the fact that Arthur might just throw a fit later, anyway.

The stranger oddly hesitated for a moment before he tucked his hands inside half of the clothing, carefully pulling out the half of it and thus obscuring his face. Merlin's gaze did not stay on the stranger, his free hand going to work to quickly untie the leather belt around him. Once he unclasped the buckle, he pulled the sack forward and threw the garments inside.

He then turned to the stranger. "Thank you, I forgot to do it while in there." He gently grabbed the remaining clothes from the stranger's arms, noting how a bit shorter the other was. As soon as he had the garments in his arms, he immediately stilled upon noticing just  _who_ had helped him.

"Ah, Mordred. I was expecting you, come in." Arthur's attention was kept on the paper, his distraction having saved Merlin's remaining dignity.

Mordred looked up at the warlock, his gaze soft yet intent. "I see you have your hands full." It was difficult to tell whether that was a joke, though Merlin snapped out of his frozen state and immediately pushed the remaining garment inside the sack. He tied a quick knot around the sack, raising it off the floor with little difficulty.

"Yes, I do," Arthur answered, as he remained distracted, believing that Mordred was speaking to him. Honestly, he could be quite a dollop-head when he needed to be.

Merlin turned away, carrying the weight of the sack on one side. "Yes. Thank you." Merlin answered as he headed down the corridor and away from the ever-present stare. The words said by Gilli resonated against his head once more,  _"If he knew—his prophecy…wouldn't he have a change of heart…"_  Ever since he had suggested that idea, it had become a constant reminder in his head.

As he stepped down the staircase, he stopped dead in his tracks.

He had  _thanked_ Mordred.  _ **Twice.**_

He decided to rule it as the fault of Gilli and his distracted mind. It had not been intentional—he would not let it be. He refused it to be.

0oOo0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	7. Act VI

0oOo0

A sudden change of behavior became very obvious to the druid boy; he had not intended to notice the way Emrys acted around him though he spent quite a lot of time watching him and vice versa. The change was drastic in a few weeks prior to Gilli's arrival. The first time he noticed this change was while they were preparing to depart—A peculiar comment and question that held second meaning to the warlock but not to him was what started his current quest.

0oOo0

MORDRED'S FLASHBACK 

"Merlin, help Sir Mordred prepare. Make sure he has everything; this is barely his second mission. Give him a few reminders and counsel him, I'm counting on your thick brain to do a good job." King Arthur ordered his servant calmly as he strapped the remaining equipment on his horse.

"Right," Merlin responded, not at all pleased with the fact that he had to help the druid. Again. He stepped towards the druid's horse, noting the fact that Mordred had overheard their exchange and was prepared to listen to what he may say. It was rather unnerving to be teaching others of simple tasks—if only he could teach him how to change his destiny that would be perfect.

In a silent manner, the warlock circled the horse, his hands gently probing his supplies. He noted the leather water bottle was full; his blanket roll was well strapped to the saddle, his dagger was there, his sword, everything was well placed. If it were up to him, he was quite sure he would have forgotten at least two items.

"Merlin, are you sure he isn't missing a boot?" Sir Percival casually questioned, his horse striding by the two young men.

On reflex, both Merlin and Mordred looked at his boots. Mordred gave a quick smile at the Knight, seeing that he had fallen for the same trick as last time. Merlin, on the other hand, tried his hardest not to laugh or crack a smile at the Knight's joke. "Very funny." He muttered, continuing to scan the equipment.

"You're all set," Merlin spoke. For a moment, Mordred beamed with pride at the fact that he hadn't forgotten anything. "However," That made the druid pause, making him feel troubled as to what he could have forgotten. "You didn't tighten your saddle or checked if it was damaged from the last time you used it." Merlin stepped aside, revealing the loose leather straps.

"I see…" Mordred scanned the leather straps for any damage, feeling rather glad that he would not need to replace it. "If the straps were damaged, where could I get it fixed?" He questioned as he looked at Merlin. At that, Merlin merely stared at him in silence—as though waiting for him to realize something. It suddenly struck him  _why_ he was staring at him. "We take it to you."

"Yes. I'm the King's servant, but his orders are final. If any of the Knights has an issue with their royal horses, then a person who works with the royals has to multitask. In this case, I would help." His tone was a little softer than usual, though his facial expression remained solemn. Merlin tightened the leather straps, pulling at the straps slightly to check if it wasn't too restricting on the horse—he also cared about the animal's comfort.

"I see. Thank you. It must be hard to do so much work."

"You get used to it." He replied shortly, his hands retreating from the Knight's horse. He stood next to Mordred for a moment, the silence becoming rather awkward and too tense for the warlock. "Do you have any other questions?"

"No, comment. You're finally speaking to him."

The warlock turned quickly at the familiar voice, taking in the appearance of Gilli. To his comment, Mordred looked at him with a perplexed expression. Though just as quickly as it came it vanished to a blank look. "Good afternoon, Gilli." Mordred greeted softly, a short small smile accompanied after.

"Good afternoon, Sir Mordred. Are you all going hunting?" He questioned with open curiosity.

"In a way. We're going to hunt and then depart to a village." Mordred responded, feeling no need to mention that this was his second mission. Even though he was rather distant from the others, he felt rather cozy in the company of two sorcerers—it made him feel like home, as secretive as it may be.

"Be careful out there and good luck," Gilli responded, exchanging a mysterious look with Merlin. The druid noticed an unspoken exchange between them, though it seemed Merlin did not appreciate what had been unspoken. After a while of casual talk, Gilli bid his farewell to go and assist Gaius in the absence of Merlin.

Merlin stood by Mordred's horse, his back facing the druid. Mordred noticed that there was an atmosphere of hesitation, though he didn't understand why the destined man would feel this way. "Did I forget something else?" Mordred asked quietly, his sapphire gaze scanning his saddle for a moment.

After a moment longer, Merlin turned around to face the druid. It became apparent that he was troubled by a decision, though Mordred could not decipher what it could be. Mordred's gaze turned to look at the other Knights, noting that they were currently occupied with their own equipment.

"Mer—."

"Mordred."

Merlin suddenly cut him off, the warlock shifted slightly in an uncomfortable manner as he stilled for what he would voice. Mordred kept his gaze fixed on him, his expression blank in order to not frighten whatever he may wish to voice. He has learned that those that express their emotions in a conflicted situation may make it worse to the second party judging by their reaction.

The young man's gaze hardened slightly as he came to a resolution. Merlin knew that whatever path may be taken, he could either alter or provoke the future. If this question would do just that, he would take on the consequences. Gilli had made various logical points during the past few weeks; it had taken a while for his advice to finally be taken into consideration. "Do you—Are you aware of your—"

"Merlin!"

And just like that, Merlin's lips clamped shut. His hardened gaze dimmed into a dull stare, as though the sudden fury of determination had been diminished in an instant. He turned his face towards Arthur's figure that currently sat on his horse. "Are you going to talk all day or will you mount your horse already? You're giving him a hard time, he's not even sure what's important or not!"

"Yes, Sire," Merlin responded. He looked back at Mordred for a moment before he departed to his own horse. He should have predicted that Arthur himself would make him run away from asking the question. [Are you aware of your destiny?] Perhaps it had been a good thing that he was interrupted—he didn't know whether that would have been a good decision or not.

Mordred, on the other hand, was dazed for a moment as such a moment had vanished in an instant. He knew that whatever unspoken question Emrys was about to voice had been very important, though now he worried about how he could get the warlock to ask it once more. The Knight mounted his saddle, slowly hooking his boots on the stirrups. His sapphire orbs followed Merlin's back, who now seemed more distant than ever.

END OF FLASHBACK 

0oOo0

What had Gilli meant at the time when he commented  _'You're finally speaking to him?'_ Had he been aware of what Emrys would ask him? Or perhaps, was he the reason for his change in behavior during these past few weeks? He did not understand, though there was one important task he needed to do. He needed to seek out answers, and perhaps Gilli had all the ones he needed. Ever since that day, Emrys had avoided ever bringing back that mysterious unfinished question. He needed to know what it had been.

He would officially meet with Gilli, not in a formal manner but on friendly terms. Perhaps Merlin has already told him of his own abilities or perhaps not. If he could slowly worm his way into Gilli, he may be able to understand the distant yet shifty behavior Merlin had around him.  _"He may even know why Merlin does not trust me."_  Mordred didn't know whether Gilli was aware that he was acquainted with Emrys—though he would not mention Merlin's true name. Not unless he already knows it.

Tomorrow, Mordred promised himself, he would arrive at the appointed time to gather Gwaine's remedy. If Gilli were to be around at the time, he would invite him for a drink and become acquainted with him. He sought for friendship and for answers that may aid in his quest to end the distrust within Emrys.

0oOo0

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Please let me know if you'd like to read more!


End file.
